By The angle called Michael Uncle entered my life on my first day in Class 11 in Al Ghubra, Sultanate of Oman. I had shifted schools and it was my first day in my new school. During that first meeting, Michael Uncle appeared to be obese but had a smiling and jovial face. He had a take-life-as-it-comes attitude towards life.
He was one of the van/bus/cab aggregators responsible for transporting students between home and school. Not just an aggregator, but like a true businessman, he worked himself and was a driver too.
He hailed from the town of Mangalore in India. Flora Aunty, his wife also supported him in this business. They had two children who resided and studied back home in India.
Michael Uncle was extremely punctual and trusted person and was recommended by many to me for pick-up and drop services from my home to school and back. My father and I met him, and he explained his business and the timing for pick-up and drop.
We mainly heard him speak two languages to his customers and employees- English and Arabic. Of course, with his wife he conversed in Konkani. With us students, he mainly spoke in English. His English was a Shakespearean marvel. He hardly knew about 50-100 words in the English language but the way he used those words, he could communicate anything in the entire universe. For those of you who think, perfect grammar and fat vocabulary is required to communicate; Michael Uncle will prove you wrong to ashes.
Michael Uncle was not just an excellent communicator but a storyteller. He was a very talkative person- he spoke so much that white saliva would accumulate at the corners of his lips and as and when he became aware of it, he wiped his mouth.
On our first meeting, he said he was never late and he never took a day-off. My father asked him- but school is only 5-day week from Sunday to Thursday. (Islamic countries of West Asia had Friday as a part of the weekend; thus, weekend was either Friday and Saturday in some countries or Thursday and Friday in others).
In his reply, he told the story of ‘Modern Mummies’. He said:
“Modern mummy send child to school 5 day. Then weekend come- modern mummy send child to swimming class, piano class- child busy and modern mummy going to gym, beauty and shopping. Mummy-child busy so Michael busy- Michael no weekend. Michael get extra money and send India.”
Didn’t I tell you – you don’t need vocabulary or grammar for story telling; you need imagination and a heart of gold.
Anyway, everyday my father and I would wait for the arrival of Michael Uncle’s van at the designated spot near our building (since school timings in West Asia begin at 7 pm; the transport arrives in the early hours of the morning). While waiting; invariably my father would be reading the newspaper – either Oman Observer or Oman Tribune. I, of course, would peep into the newspaper, for I enjoy reading the newspaper when it is held wide by someone else! Michael Uncle would come, greet my father while I took my seat in the van. This continued for many months and became a routine.
Then came the time for the dreaded Class 12 Board exams. I was one of the few students who had opted for Commerce branch of study and my timetable was different from most of the other students. Thus, to inform my timetable to Michael Uncle, I called him a fortnight before my board exams, but his phone was not reachable. Attending school was optional at that time and these days were mainly considered as study holidays so I couldn’t meet Michael Uncle even at school. Further, as I never took any extra tuition classes, I couldn’t connect with him.
While we were just considering some other means of transport, Michael Uncle had called my father and informed him that another driver would be arranged just for me (as my timetable was different) and that he wouldn’t be able to come himself. He hung up without giving any reasons.
The driver that he sent was Salman who was from Bangladesh. As if he had imbibed some of Michael Uncle’s genes, he too always arrived dot on time during my Board exam days. He would take me and bring me back from the exams and would never be late. Salman did not know the whereabouts of Michael Uncle.
The board exams were over but there was no sign of Michael Uncle. His phone too was not reachable. I wondered where he suddenly disappeared.
Meanwhile, during this period, the Omani government began the implementation of Omanisation- a government strategy aiming at replacing 50% of expatriate population in all skilled and technical jobs. This economic strategy would ensure that the Omani youth were not unemployed while reducing Oman’s dependency on its expatriate population.
Then one day, out of the blue, Michael Uncle got in touch with my father and explained that he wanted to give thousand books to us. He said he would come on the weekend.
A thousand books! Why?
Michael Uncle arrived the following weekend and as soon as he arrived- we asked him not about the books but about his sudden absence. Where was he all these days? He replied:
“Sir, Ominisation happening. Police say- you Al Hind (الهند – India is called ‘Al Hind’ in Arabic). You no drive car business- but I drive car- I drop and pick up children- one day police catch me- police put me jail – I out now.”
It was sad to hear all this; about how he suffered. One thing did not change- his smile and his attitude towards life. Being the storyteller that he was, he even narrated stories about his brief stay in jail.
Michael Uncle said that when he had called me few days before my board exam to inform about the new driver, he was just caught by the police. However, he wanted to make sure that I had no trouble during the board exams and requested the Omani police to hand him over his phone so he could plan transportation for the children towards whom he owed responsibilities.
Of all the things that Michael Uncle could gave done when he was in police custody- he decided that a 16-year-old girl’s board examination was more important than his arrest in a foreign land. Just as you promised me during our first meeting – even in your absence you were never late.
Then, he showed part of the thousand books he brought, as all could not be adjusted in a single trip in his vehicle. We asked him why he was giving us these?
He said these books were left back by a British expatriate who worked with a petroleum company and he had had to suddenly leave the country. He told Michael that he cannot take these books back to his home country and that he should take care of them. Michael then said:
“I watch you two read newspaper waiting me in morning- you think book important- you take care of books- so I give to you. You Ustaad (Professor in Arabic is called Ustaad (أستاذ) and father worked as professor in those days). You no give Rial (Omani currency)- you take book.”
Michael Uncle could have easily sold these books for a few more Rials (considering his arrest affected his earnings) but his 100-word vocabulary was enough for him to understand the importance to knowledge.
These were no ordinary books – perhaps the British expat was an ardent reader because it was clear that these were carefully collected books over years.
I returned to India for higher studies after the declaration of the results of my 12th Board examinations. During my visit in summer vacations, I learnt that Michael Uncle was caught a few more times by the police.
I wonder if I will ever be able to meet the angel called Michael Uncle in this lifetime. ‘Thank you’ will be a very insignificant word for you. You thought about me at a time when even sane people forget their senses- in police custody.
Michael Uncle, we still have the thousand books that you gave us. We have built a library that grows each year. Every time I pick up a book from the books that you gave me, I remember your smiling face and eyes. Thank you for your thousand blessings.
Yes, I wonder whether I will ever be able to be able to do justice to your thousand books; if I will ever be able to read them in this lifetime of mine….
May God bless you Michael Uncle!
